Time Knots
by Kilrez
Summary: Jack's team corner a certain individual poking around in 21st century Cardiff. They're about to learn more about their boss than they ever realised.
1. Chapter 1

**Time Knots  
**

If I had a time machine, I'd make damn sure the universe imploded at least once a week. It's probably a good thing I don't.

* * *

Jack stared around the empty hub. He was beginning to conclude his team was elsewhere. This was somewhat confounding, given that he had no idea where 'elsewhere' might be. He was _sure_ they'd been here a few minutes ago.

Touching his ear piece, he frowned up at Myfanwy, perched in her nest. 'Jack to Torchwood. Where is everyone?' Myfanwy glared back down at him as he broke the silence of the unusually peaceful hub.

It was Ianto's voice that answered him, sounding strained. 'Uh, we've got a bit of a situation, Jack.'

Jack was moving before Ianto had finished the sentence. His first urge was to pull his gun out of his holster but he managed to resist. It was somewhat embarrassing having to wave it around vainly for several useless minutes until he reached the problem. 'I'm on my way,' Jack told him authoritatively. 'Where are you exactly?'

'I'm not sure you should…' started Tosh uncertainly.

Jack gave a half pause at that. 'Why?' he demanded, hitting the button for the lift.

There was an uneasy silence for several long seconds. 'Where are you?' asked Jack, increasingly bemused by the vague warnings from his team.

'We're just outside the hub Jack, but you really shouldn't come up here.' That was Gwen, her voice suggesting he keep calm in a way that betrayed just how worried she was.

Jack cocked an eyebrow and stepped out of the lift. 'You're going to have to give me a better reason than that. Tell me what's going on.'

The comms gave of the sounds of a brief scuffle, followed by Owen's shout of 'don't move. Stay where you are!' That did it for Jack. He quick stepped it out the front door of the tourism office, pulling up dead when he saw the scene.

'Safeties on, everybody. Now!' he snapped when they didn't immediately comply. One by one, his team flicked the safety on their weapons, glancing from their boss to the individual wearing a casual grin at the other end of their barrels.

'Is he a clone, or a robot, or what?' demanded Owen, his gun still trained despite its induced harmlessness. The other three had lowered theirs but looked ready to re-aim at any second.

Jack sighed heavily and eyed himself. 'This better be really important,' he told him.

'Is tracking down my future self for a make-out session important enough?' queried the kid with a roguish grin.

'He's really you?' blurted Gwen in surprise.

'He really is,' confirmed Jack wearily. The anecdotes were right. It was a special sort of embarrassing to meet your younger self. Has his hair ever really been that artfully mussed?

Jack's team stared at the newcomer they had cornered with renewed curiosity. This version of Jack was the right height but his face was fresher and he was yet to fill out- lanky and lean. His hair was longer and tousled, and that lopsided grin never left his face. That utter confidence was a thing that definitely hadn't changed.

'I know I didn't sleep through that bit where they warned us about this,' Jack stated, his tone dangerous as he faced off with his doppelganger. He made sure not to get any closer. The universe was in enough peril as it was.

'It's OK. You don't remember this, do you? Must mean it's going to get wiped from my head. So we're free to talk.'

'Talk about what exactly?' asked Jack suspiciously.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Time Knots- Chapter Two**

This was originally written all in one chunk so there's a little bit of jiggering around where the chapters end and begin. My apologies.

Thanks to Aqua Mage, Batman'sBeauty18, Village-Mystic, Anna, friends-girl2008, TV-crazy and Nargil for this chapter. Reviews make me post. FYI, Jack and young Jack will **NOT **be making out in this story because I would get way too confused with the pronouns. Feel free to imagine it vividly though.

* * *

'It's OK. You don't remember this, do you? Must mean it's going to get wiped from my head. So we're free to talk.' Jack's younger self spoke with fluent ease, and Jack could clearly see all the little shifts of posture that said 'I'm harmless, I'm charming, you want me.' He really hoped his own signals had become a little more subtle than that with age.

'Talk about what?' he asked suspiciously. Abruptly, Jack's mind shunted aside its surface considerations to present a bit of information that had been jumping up and down trying to get attention. 'You're the missing two years!' choked out Jack, shocked by the wrenching in his gut. This was the event that had caused so much upheaval in his life?

The kid raised his eyebrows but didn't comment. He was a cool operator at least.

'Should we perhaps take this inside the hub?' suggested Ianto. The semi identical men surrounded by a small crowd of armed people were drawing the odd stare.

Still frantically running through the ramifications in his head, Jack nodded dumbly. He lead the way back inside with a curt order for his younger self to stay at the rear of the group. He wasn't going to risk touching the kid.

Once downstairs they fell automatically into an arrangement that left Jack and his younger self in the centre. Jack was bemused by the likeness it held to a stage show. He could practically feel his team cracking out the popcorn.

'Name?' he demanded of his younger self.

'What, you don't know?' His tone was almost taunting but his grin made it harmless.

'As you've pointed out, _I don't remember this_,' Jack half growled. He didn't mean his harsh tone. It was refreshing to be reminded of a time of such ambition and relative innocence.

'Dexter,' said the kid with a quirk of his lips.

'Seriously?' groaned Jack.

'I cannot believe you were _ever_ called Dexter,' Owen muttered under his breath.

Dexter turned to look at the origin of the voice, taking a second to scan the rest of Jack's team. After a moment, he turned back to Jack and cocked an eyebrow. 'At least my sense of aesthetics hasn't clouded with extreme old age.'

That got collective groans from the aesthetically pleasing people in question. Jack ignored them and narrowed his eyes. 'You know something,' he said, studying Dexter minutely.

Abruptly the joking smile dropped from the younger man's face. 'I know lots of things I'd rather I didn't,' he sighed seriously.

'Why are you here?' asked Jack, getting to the root of the issue.

'I need your help. Or more accurately, you need your help.'

Jack cocked his head on one side, considering. After a moment, it all seemed to click. 'You ran into an older version of me,' he stated.

'Yup,' agreed Dexter easily. 'And he's a mess. I tried, but as soon as I say anything, he's all with the "you don't understand".'

'So what makes you think I'll have any more success?' asked Jack with a frown. He couldn't help a brief glance at Ianto who was watching the scene with blank attention.

'Because you're post immortality but pre extreme-disillusionment-with-the-universe,' Dexter told him bluntly.

Jack just stared at him for a moment. The first thing that sprung to his mind was "the Doctor would be better for this." This younger version of himself didn't know the Doctor though. And if he was honest with himself, the Doctor wouldn't help at all. He wouldn't be so foolish as to try and quickstep around such a minefield of paradoxes.

'Look, you can borrow my wrist computer if you want. He mentioned yours is broken.' Dexter was already unstrapping the technology on his arm.

'Don't be so ready to take that thing off kid,' warned Jack. 'You don't want to get stuck without it.'

Dexter paused in his actions to raise a dubious eyebrow at Jack. 'You know I'm not going to remember any of this right? And even if I did, I would ignore any advice you gave as a matter of principle?'

'I know,' sighed Jack. 'It's just instinctual.'

'Get it out of your system,' advised Dexter confidentially, going back to unbuckling his wrist computer.

'Don't go rescuing girls from barrage balloons. Always check your bed before you get in it. Definitely stay well away from giant pepper pots.' Jack let out a quick stream of all the things he could think of.

'Better?' asked Dexter, holding out the wrist computer.

'Much,' replied Jack cheerfully, carefully taking the proffered item, making sure they didn't touch. The leather was newer and stiffer under his fingers. He let out a small huff of air through his nose. Memories were wandering back to him. He'd been so proud when he'd finally earned the right to wear that wrist computer.

'He's not far from here,' Dexter informed him. 'Distance-wise that is. New Galactica, 7128. It's pretty much Cardiff if you account for continental drift.'

Jack couldn't help a wry smile at that.

'One moment,' butted in Owen, frowning at the scene before him. Both Jacks turned to look at him with identical questioning expressions. 'Could we have some proof that he isn't a fake?' queried Owen.

'I'd have to agree there,' joined Ianto. 'He could be an imitator just trying to get you away from the rift so he can end the world. As people inevitably seem to attempt.'

'He has a point,' agreed Dexter with a thoughtful twist to his lips.

Jack rolled his eyes. 'No. He just wants to hear about embarrassing past secrets.'

'Well those are good too,' replied Dexter with an insalubrious grin. 'Like that time when-'

Jack managed to cut him off with a very severe frown. 'I know you're me. It would be pretty hard to fake.' Owen managed to only look a little crestfallen. Jack flipped the wrist computer open and blinked at the controls. It had been a long time since he'd used a wrist comp for time travel without a Time Lord pointing a sonic screwdriver at it.

'You better have given this its maintenance,' he warned Dexter.

'Relax. It's only 72 centuries. Even I could hit the right minute from here.'

'Even you, huh?' asked Jack wryly. He was punching in coordinates as he did. 'Where is he specifically?'

'In the calligraphy dome. He just lies there watching the 'scape and starving to death over and over again.' An edge of worry laced Dexter's voice as he talked about his older self.

Jack met his eyes and nodded. 'I'll see what I can do,' he promised. A deep breath, and he pressed down hard with both thumbs on the engage button. They all watched as Jack was abruptly sucked into the vortex and disappeared.

Dexter held position for several seconds before his attention was grabbed by his surrounds. 'Cool secret base,' he complimented them cheerfully.

'Jack better get back safely,' Gwen informed him curtly. Her sentiment was echoed in the expressions of the other three.

Dexter raised both eyebrows in mild surprise. 'What could possibly happen to him?' he pointed out. 'He can't die, and he's going to live a very long time. Even if he gets stuck, he'll get back here eventually.'

'How long is he going to live?' asked Tosh with a curious frown.

Dexter shrugged. 'I haven't found the end.' He paused, rubbing his chin. 'That's a little depressing actually.'

'Here wasn't the first version of yourself you came to find, was it,' Ianto stated more than asked.

That got a small grimace. 'Not so much, no. It's like "This is Your Life" when you haven't lived it yet. You got any coffee around here?'

'Are you old enough to drink coffee?' retorted Owen.

That earned the medic a look that clearly hadn't changed in Jack's long lifetime. 'Get to know me a bit better and you can find out,' he suggested with an insalubrious wink.

'Where does 'Dexter' come from?' asked Tosh, politely attempting to reroute the conversation.

'Short for dexterous,' Dexter informed her, tip of his tongue showing through his evil grin. Ianto found he was watching him very closely, an unreadable expression on the Welshman's face masking decidedly interesting thoughts. The others managed similar expressions, although theirs were more genuinely flat.

'Aw, c'mon. Jack wouldn't have to know,' Dexter appealed to them, his expression leaving no doubt to what he was suggesting. At Owen's unimpressed glare, Dexter shrugged cheerfully and headed past the four of them, aiming unerringly for Jack's office. The Torchwood team exchanged meaningful glances and followed. They didn't necessarily trust this man, even if he was going to be their boss one day.

TBC.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

There was... work. And stuff. Long story short, I have to be sleeping now, kthx. Berate me enough and I'll update quicker next time.

* * *

Jack staggered as the vortex spat him out, then the headache gripped him and he fell over. Squinting, he staggered to his feet and tucked Dexter's wrist computer into his trouser pocket. A quick check of his own confirmed he'd hit the right date at least.

Aside from the ocean to his right, nothing looked the same. 7128 was well past Jack's home time, and his knowledge of it was largely academic. Still, the Doctor was living proof that jumping headlong into a time was a perfectly acceptable way to go.

No one glanced twice at Jack where he'd materialised at the edge of the large open square. The weather was cold and misty and the constant whizzing sounds from overhead were the only indicator of heavy traffic. Calligraphy dome, the boy had said. Sounded like a big landmark.

Ambling along at an incongruous pace, Jack kept his eye out for a helpful looking local. Given the population of the earth, the place was relatively quiet. It was early morning and most of the movement through the streets were the small sweeper-bots and occasional person out walking their household pet. The residential structures were tall enough that their tops were lost in the mist. Despite their identical constructions, little signs of individual personalities were everywhere in plants growing off balconies and streaks of colourful paint covering doorways.

Jack became engrossed in the scenery, walking slowly and just looking around. As a result, he nearly bumped into one passerby who had watched his approach with amused curiosity. 'New in town?' the teenaged girl asked him with a lopsided grin. Her pupils were vertical slits in sky-blue irises.

Jack gave her a brilliant smile. 'Yeah. I'm looking for the calligraphy dome?'

She eyed him for a moment, contemplatively. Jack held his breath. It had occurred to him that the occupants of this city might know his face quite well. He was in luck though. 'Back the way you came. Down this street, first left, through the green square and straight ahead.'

Jack thanked her in his most charming manner. She nodded with a bemused smile and watched him turn on his heel and stride off in the other direction. The strange man held a fascinating combination of 20th and 51st century in him. She wondered what he had come to the 72nd for.

New Galactica in its damp mist and morning silence held an eerie quality that made Jack want to get this over with and get back to Cardiff. He wasn't sure what he was going to find, or even that he wanted to be here, but he couldn't just ignore his younger self. And if he could help then surely it would be worth the journey.

The green square turned out to be a perfect patch of turf which split the road to run either side of it. Jack cautiously circumvented it and continued on. If you weren't sure, it was best not to walk on the grass. The calligraphy dome could not be mistaken as it materialised through the mist. He paused for a moment to stare and let out a low whistle.

It was a massive structure, outer walls made of smooth, solid darkness. Across the perfect semicircle dome looped burning lines and spirals that twisted and writhed in a hypnotic dance.

Jack couldn't help but feel a little awed at the thing. He had no idea what its function was, but it held a fantastical beauty. The moving lines of flame almost seemed to spell out words before they morphed and changed into new designs that pulled at the eyes. He boldly stepped right up to where the dome met the grey plasteel sidewalk and inspected the material closely.

A slow circumnavigation found no variation that he could readily perceive. His wrist computer didn't recognise whatever the dome was constructed from but gave no warning bleep so he carefully reached out a hand to place on the wall. His hand sunk straight through and it clicked in Jack's head.

A sure step through the phantom dome and suddenly Jack was in space. Around his head galaxies whirled in eternal night, nebulae and star clusters throwing majestic colours across the black. It took a moment for his military instincts to kick in and allow him to survey his surroundings. The floor remained perfectly intact and under the zenith of the dome a form lay prone, still as death.

Warily, Jack approached the silent body, eyes adjusting to the starlight. By the time he reached it, he could see the light reflecting off the openly staring blue eyes. The face was thinner and the eyes so very much older but it was him down to the length of the eyelashes. A shiver ran down Jack's spine and he strongly considered just taking out Dexter's wrist computer and going back to Torchwood.

'He fetched you.' The quiet voice was scratchy with disuse and made Jack jump with its unexpectedness. The man's expression did not change one iota before or after speech.

'I fetched me,' replied Jack with a light tone that belied his true feelings.

There was a sigh like a zephyr through a cave. 'You do not have to be here. I sent him to get you so he would go away. You can go away too.'

'Well, since I'm here, I might as well stay for a chat,' Jack told him blithely. He shrugged off his coat and tossed it on the ground then lay down next to himself. The change in angle shifted the star-scape from beautiful to breathtaking.

'You know enough to know there is no point.'

'Well…' Jack heaved out a sigh himself and settled his shoulder blades back into the ground. 'I always knew it was bound to get a bit depressing some day.'

Silence fell for several long minutes. Jack was used to letting silences draw the words out of other people. His older self was clearly beyond this trick. He didn't mind. It was truly peaceful watching the flow and bloom of the plasma. The picture shifted through time and space; a constant hypnotic morphing that drew the eye out into the black. He lay with his older self and tried to arrange his mind to one that had lived for so long. False platitudes and a cheery outlook would be of no help, he knew that much. He just wasn't sure what _would_ help.

'So what is your plan?' he asked, wrapping the stillness of the moment around his quiet words.

'Is it not obvious that I have given up on plans?' The emaciated form spoke in a cool monotone.

'Even lying here for the rest of however-long-it-takes is a plan, of sorts,' pointed out Jack.

'You think it will be boring,' came the flat response. Jack wasn't sure if it was an accusation or a statement.

'At least a little,' he agreed.

'Things change, when you get so old. Boredom is… a strange idea to me now.'

'The feeling that you could be doing something better, right? How can you be bored when you have nothing you would rather be doing.' Jack understood, at least mentally. There was another silence, a natural break in the conversation that arose from two people with all the time in the universe.

'Do you ever stop feeling the loss?' Jack asked finally. He tried to keep his tone neutral as he asked although the question meant everything to him.

'All too soon,' sighed his older self. There where whispers of regret in his voice, somewhere.

Jack swallowed. 'If you don't feel losing those you love; that has to mean that you stopped connecting in the first place. If you don't care about people, how can you be alive at all?'

'You can't be,' came the simple answer.

'So that's why,' stated Jack as the realisation hit him. 'It hurt too much watching everyone that you loved die over and over… so you just gave up.'

'Yes.'

Jack blinked. Above them the uncaring stars continued their stately dance. 'Hang on a second,' he began, thinking hard. 'That can't be right. Humans are made to deal with loss. There has to be some way to cope.' He tried not to think of the hurt that weighed on his soul- a mere century of loss enough to make breathing difficult sometimes.

'Humans are made to have finite lives.'

Jack narrowed his eyes in deep thought, rubbing the solid mass of the wrist computer in his pocket. 'We keep on aging, I'm sure of it. That means that someday, there has to be an end.'

'Perhaps.'

Jack let out a heavy sigh. 'You got a point though. From here it feels pretty eternal. Really, we must both be babies compared to what we're going to be.'

They fell back into silent contemplation of the stars. Jack could tell he wasn't helping. Indeed, the conversation seemed to be more convincing him of the pointlessness of it all rather than the other way around. It was sheer force of will that made him take a breath to try again. 'I could stay with you,' he suggested.

That received a confounded pause. 'No you couldn't.'

'Not forever. For thousands of years though. Then head back to my own time to age and become you.'

'You know as well as I do that there are far too many implicit paradoxes attached to that situation.'

'Yeah,' sighed Jack. 'But there has to be some solution to this problem.'

'Does there?'

'Yes,' repeated Jack more forcefully. 'I've heard enough legends of the Face of Boe to know that it's me… you. Do you remember the Doctor's face when you mentioned that nick-name to him?'

'No,' came the quiet reply. It sounded sad. That was something at least- the first real emotion Jack had heard from his older self.

'Regardless, I know I don't just stop here for the rest of my life, however long that lasts.'

There was no response. Jack rolled his eyes. It seemed impossible. When the other man had started talking to him, he had been hopeful that it would be possible to talk him around to a solution. It seemed, however, that millennia of life had honed his debating skills and deadened any appeals to emotion. It was like talking to a passively resisting elephant. There was very little you could do once it had decided it wasn't going to move.

'Guess it's time for plan B,' he muttered to himself. He had inklings of what was needed; he just wasn't sure how he would find the thing required. He sat up, reaching out for his coat then pushing himself to his feet. Looking down at the inert form as he shoved his arms into the sleeves he couldn't help the small shiver that ran down his spine. So much time had passed for him, yet he barely looked a few years older than what Jack saw in the mirror every morning.

He closed his eyes to shut out the image of the silhouetted body beneath the swirling stars and reached for the wrist computer in his pocket. The controls he knew without having to look. The vortex was light and sickening movement even through his eyelids and then he was back on solid ground once more.

_TBC (one last chapter. In which interesting stuff happens)_


	4. Chapter 4

T

**Time Knots- Chapter Four**

'Jack!' The exclamation was joyful, and suddenly he was surrounded by people. The voices and bodies were a swirl of sensations, dizzying him and weakening his knees for a moment. Firm self control pulled him back and his vision snapped abruptly into place. He had never been so glad to see the echoing gloom of the hub.

'You should sit down,' suggested Dexter concernedly, watching from outside the ring that had closed around its centre.

Jack looked up and met his eyes before travelling to connect with each member of his team. Ianto's gaze bored deeply into him, capturing him. 'Jack?' came the wary question. The tone of voice told him he must have let some of the eternal tiredness show through.

'I'm fine,' he said, tearing his gaze away to blink at the wrist computer in his hands. It wasn't just time sickness that had him feeling like this. The utter hopelessness of his future self was insidious.

Gwen gently removed the device from his grasp and led him over to the couch by the wall. Jack allowed himself to be shepherded to sit. Gwen sat one side and Ianto the other, with Tosh perched on one arm and Owen standing before him, arms folded and feet shoulder-width apart. Dexter remained a distance away, eyeing him anxiously. Jack supposed he probably didn't like what he saw- what he was going to become.

'Could you do anything?' asked Gwen gently.

Jack blinked at her, the question reaching through his fog somewhat. He shook his head. 'It's not something easily fixed,' he told them.

'But you have an idea,' stated Dexter bluntly, eyeing him closely.

Jack couldn't help the small smile that curled the corners of his mouth. It seemed the ease with which he could read his younger self worked in both directions. He reached briefly back into his memory for his mother tongue- there were things to say to Dexter that weren't for his team's ears. '_He's alone,_' Jack said softly, his eyes locked with Dexter's.

Dexter suppressed the flash of surprise at the choice of language and managed to simply nod. Even as he spoke, Jack knew part of the reason he was telling this to the boy was to get it off his own chest. '_He couldn't bear losing people any more. Their lifetimes flash past his eyes like candles._'

Jack's team were all staring at him intently as he talked yet none of them questioned his sudden switch into incomprehensibility. '_That's what you're going to be. What I'm going to be. How can you fix that? We're going to live for so long…_' The hollowness in Dexter's eyes reflected what Jack felt in his chest. He let out a deep sigh.

'_You're right, it will be a long time. I have an idea though. We need to find him someone that's not going to live and die in a season._'

Dexter frowned in thought. '_Some of the races from the _D'hklaktin _live for thousands of years. They're pretty weird though._'

'_I'm not talking about interspecies matchmaking,' _Jack told him in amusedly.

'_Why not?_' asked Dexter with a distinctly suggestive look on his face. '_Sounds like fun to me._'

'I don't know what they're saying, but that was definitely innuendo,' declared Owen flatly.

The small chuckle that burst from his chest at that felt good. 'How perceptive,' grinned Dexter.

'_I have something I want you to take to him._' Jack allowed his voice to regain seriousness. He stood, Owen moving out his way so he could start towards his office.

'_What is it?_' asked Dexter curiously, falling in behind him.

'_A seed,_' replied Jack. He paused in front of the piece of coral on its stand. It had grown even in the past few years. From time to time, he would catch wisps of life curling around it.

Dexter followed Jack's stare and reached out a tentative hand to touch the innocuous article. 'It feels… out of time,' breathed Dexter. Jack knew what he meant. It was hard to put words to, but the infant TARDIS had a strange aura about it.

'_It's the start of a living time ship. In 500 years it will be grown and sentient._' He was pointed in his use of language. Even though his team had not followed him into his office, they could easily look it up on the surveillance footage later. The less they knew about the time twists he was creating, the better.

'_You're going to give it to him, so he will have something,_' Dexter murmured in understanding.

'_No. You are. I'm not ready to look after this thing whilst it grows. It's like the world's longest pregnancy._'

'_Followed by a pretty unusual child,_' chortled Dexter. He carefully removed the TARDIS seed from its stand, cradling it in the crook of one elbow.

'Gwen's got your wrist computer,' Jack told him, with a jerk of his head towards where his team waited for them to re-emerge.

Dexter didn't leave right away. He cocked his head on one side, regarding Jack with an inscrutable gaze. 'I have to say, despite my cheerful countenance, I was a little worried to find I was going to catch an immunity to death. Still, it seems to have turned out OK. Good luck with it.'

'Thanks,' replied Jack dryly. 'Now get out of here before Ianto demands a threesome. I can see him thinking it.'

'Mm, me too,' purred Dexter. He sauntered out of the office with a saucy wink that nearly made Jack groan out loud. He really was unstoppable.

**oo00OO00oo**

Jack's head shot up at the sound of a time rotor echoing through the hub. Bits of paper whipped up in the wild eddies of air displaced and several sets of footsteps pounded down the stairs from the board room.

'Jack, what's going on?' called Gwen, eyes fixed on the thing materialising even as she swung down the last few steps.

Jack held up a hand for calm, face glowing as he watched the object before them solidify fully. It was sleek and silver and it sung to his heart like something familiar. His team traded wary glances, looking back and forth between Jack and the mysterious new appearance.

A portal of sorts dissolved in the rounded outer shell to reveal a black robed figure with a perfectly serene expression.

'Oh great, another one,' Owen grumbled sarcastically.

The version of Jack that had stepped out of the new TARDIS had stunningly dark blue eyes. His face was weathered and distinguished streaks of silver marked his temples. He had Jack's features down to a tee, and yet was nothing like Jack. His bearing, his demeanour, his ancient eyes; all spoke volumes and none of them were Jack's.

'So it worked then,' Jack greeted him with a grin.

'What can I say? I've always had good ideas.' He spoke with a gentle smile, his voice warm and soothing. 'Thank you. You did the right thing.'

'But you didn't come all the way here just to tell me that,' pointed out Jack. The man before him in the Jedi-style robes might be thousands of years old, but it was still him, and he could still read that body language perfectly.

A slow blink of affirmation. The older Jack turned back to his TARDIS and laid one hand flat against her silver wall. Jack could feel the energy that passed between them and marvelled at it. He looked forwards to the day when he would form that bond- when he would be ready.

There were gasps from behind him as a body on a stretcher floated out the TARDIS's portal. Jack stared in shock at the peaceful features of his younger self. His heart constricted in panic for a moment before he realised Dexter's chest still rose and fell evenly.

'You sent him to give the seed to me for a reason, even if you did not know it yourself.'

'Yeah,' admitted Jack slowly, tearing his eyes from the form on the stretcher. 'I didn't want to have to retcon him. So much time spent anguishing over what happened in those missing memories- I just couldn't.'

'It's okay, you don't have to. I will take him to the Time Agency after here. Their bureaucracy is corrupt but they will perform the memory wipe required. Protocol demands it.'

'Protocol?' questioned Tosh from behind Jack's right shoulder.

'Paradox is to be avoided at all cost,' explained Jack. 'If an older version of myself drops him off at their front door, they'll make very sure there's no evidence of it to mess with the time flow.'

The man in the black robes nodded once. 'I am here for you though, Captain. My TARDIS has a more sensitive and accurate route.'

Stomach sinking slowly, Jack swallowed. 'Where do you need me?'

'Hang on a second!' exclaimed Gwen. 'What are you talking about?' She sounded very alarmed.

Jack turned around to face them, acceptance in his eyes. 'You didn't think Dexter was the only one that couldn't be allowed to remember this did you?'

'But… you can't just…'

'He can. He has too.' The man lowered his chin to look more directly at the Torchwood team. Jack admired the way his older self could maintain that calm voice in the face of his four team members with expressions from anxious to belligerent.

Although they looked like they would dearly like to come up with a good reason to avoid the memory wipe for their boss, no one else brought up any more protests. Jack stepped inside the ship that would become his two paces behind the floating stretched carrying the sleeping Dexter.

'Make it quick,' was all he said, settling the waiting headset over his head.

He couldn't see his future self's smile, but Jack could hear it in his voice. 'Really, do not worry. TARDISes are masters of telepathy, and this one is attuned just to you. Your team will be able to tell you what happened. They do not know enough of the details to compromise time. You managed to engineer that perfectly.'

'Thanks,' replied Jack with a shaky laugh. He closed his eyes and waited for the dark pull of memories disappearing. Instead there was a soft golden light, weaving into his mind.

'Not half bad,' he murmured to himself. Then he fell asleep.

**oo00OO00oo**

Jack blinked awake, feeling more rested than he had in a hundred years, given that he _didn't sleep._ 'Was I knocked out?' he muttered woozily, blinking up at the four faces surrounding him. He was lying on the slab in the infirmary, still in his clothes thankfully.

'Have we got a story to tell you,' Owen informed him wryly.

'Oh good,' grinned Jack. Lingering traces of golden light were trailing through his veins and they felt delightful. Somehow he had a feeling that whatever it was, he could deal with it.

The End


End file.
